Comcast has the worst service! I heart EMT’s.

I’ve been trying to get Comcast to fix our cable and high speed internet for the last two years. They suck. They never do what they say they are going to do. They do not call you back. They do not follow-up. They do not credit you for poor service but expect you to pay the bill on time regardless of their performance. Their equipment is old (so they claim) and haven’t gotten around to “updating” this area. This is what they’ve told me this time but before they tried to blame it on the cable wiring in the house (I have to go through this every damned time they are here. “Hey, the last EIGHT TECHNICIANS checked the wiring and there is nothing wrong with it!”) It’s always the same problem, every single time, and they never listen to me. This crap has been going on for two years. I’m ready to switch to DirectTV. No one should have to put up with this kind of poor service and even poorer customer service.

K… Rant about Comcast over.

Today, I was standing in the parking lot, having a conversation, and about to get into my truck to drive to my store, when our conversation was interrupted by a very loud BOOM-CRASH-SCREECH-SCREAM. A guy in a big, white pickup truck had run a red light and slammed into some poor older woman. Her car was munched. His was crunched and in the mall foliage. He got out of his truck madder than a hornet and started yelling at her. The jerk. It was his fault!!

This poor woman was terribly shook-up and clearly in shock. We ran to the scene and attempted to help her. I was on the phone with the police and paramedics and they were instructing me in how to help her. The dashboard was pushed up into her chest and, while she wasn’t visibly bleeding, it was clear that she had some internal trauma. I concluded my call with the emergency people and tried to get her to calm down. All she wanted to do was to call work and let them know she was going to be late. It’s all good to be concerned about getting to work on time but this woman was clearly not thinking rationally.

I had her give me her phone and I called work for her. She kept shouting (which was really unnecessary as I was standing right there) orders at me and telling me what to tell them. The woman on the other line just kept saying, “Is she alright? She doesn’t sound alright…” Um, no, she wasn’t. Her heart was racing, her hands were shaking, her entire body started trembling, and her skin tone was starting to turn an ash-white color. Thank God the paramedics pulled up just as she started to get woozy.

Meanwhile, Mr. Asshole was standing on the corner, yelling into his phone, and complaining about the condition of his truck. He never once came over to see if the little old lady was okay. I wanted to run him over with his own precious, crunched truck. Then he began arguing with a witness and was being threatening toward her by saying that it wasn’t his fault and she’d better “…shut your GodDamnedMouth, Bitch!” When the policeman walked up, I pointed at the guy and told him he’d better get him under control because he was being very aggressive. I also intimated that he might be “on” something considering his demeanor and lack of concern for the other driver.

Once the paramedics arrived, I was moved out of the way and felt helpless just standing there. So, I gave my information and account of what I saw to the police and left. I hope that lady is okay. I noticed one little ray of sunshine (not), standing in the street, hands behind his back in handcuffs, blissfully yelling obscenities at the policeman. I hope they bust his ass.

Despite Mr. Asshole and his assholian behavior, many wonderful Good Samaritans pulled over to help. This was really nice to see. Everyone was willing to get water, blankets, call the police, etc… Thanks Albuquerqueans; all but one of you rocked today!

I drove slowly and defensively… all the way to my store. I have to admit that it scared me and made me realize how fragile we all are as we sit in our plush, leather seats, listening to the radio, cruising along until… BOOM-CRASH-SCREECH-SCREAM!! And our hunka-hunka metal vehicle is wrapped around our knees so tight that you can feel the heat of the engine roasting your shins.

As I was driving along, I remembered that just the day before, at 7 o’clock in the morning, I had to call 911 because there was a guy (I think; I only saw the back of his head.) in an old, beater truck, swerving from lane to lane. It was clear he was very drunk. The operator kept me on the line as I gave her directions and updates as to where we were so they could get a cop out there to stop the drunk. Finally, after several miles, the drunk pulled into a gas station, ran into the pumps, and came to a stop. I told the operator where he was and suggested she get someone there quickly before he either got back on the road or blew up the station. Then, I wished her a good day and hung-up.

Man. What are people thinkin’? All of this stuff was just a little too close for comfort. I may have a big truck with a Hemi but that won’t stop some assholian behavior or assholian drunken behavior from taking me out. Makes me paranoid to drive.

And THAT… makes me feel old, or something.

Although… the woman I was conversing with in the parking lot said she’d never done anything like that before; she’d never stopped or pulled over to help anyone. I guess either you do or you don’t and I’m a doer. I just can’t help myself. My companion said that it creeped her out too much and she was afraid she’d see blood. I told her I was more afraid someone was going to die on me but, really, the fact that someone needed help creates something in me that causes me to go to it, like a moth to a flame… and then I think about it for days and days. I personalize it, freak myself out, drive slowly and defensively for about a week and then I‘m over it. And she said,

“That’s why I don’t like doing anything like that. I don’t think I’d ever get over it.”

Hmmm… I guess you either do or you don’t. I don’t understand the don’ts anymore than they don’t understand the do’s. I don’t think I could ever be an EMT or police officer but I do have that “run to it versus run from it” gene. My friend, Karen, is a firefighter/EMT. I don’t understand how she does it but I’m grateful for her and people like her, every day.

So, are you a do’er or a don’ter? And why….